Bound Hearts, Frayed Knotts
by Wolf in She's Clothing
Summary: Alpha Omega-verse. Alpha Dean works undercover for Omega Protection and Recovery, his profession chosen as a result of past traumas his omega brother, Sam, endured. What happens when on a raid, Dean finds himself experiencing a soul tie with broken, pregnant, omega Castiel? Blind Sam. Teen Castiel. Slash, Mpreg, M for content, trigger warning.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, no copyright infringement is intended in the production of this story.  
**

** Bound Hearts, ****Frayed Knotts**

**Chapter One**

* * *

Thin shoulders tensed as he held his position by the door to his kennel. His ears strained for sound of heavy footsteps out in the hall. Although there were no clocks visible, omega 97 instinctively knew the time and had hurried to kneel in position fifteen minutes ago, just in case his keeper was early.

As always, his heartbeat accelerated when the muffled sound of boots against concrete at last permeated the door to the cell. Absently, he rubbed his midriff in an act of self-soothing. Blue eyes blurred as he held his focus on a spot six inches in front of him on the floor. Even though he expected it, 97 was hard pressed not to jump when the bolt was slammed open and the thick door cracked.

Outside the dim fluorescents flickered, painting the grey walls a melancholic blue.

"Okay, 97… Up. I haven't got all day!"

Even though he had not hesitated to obey, knees stiff from never-ending kneeling, he was still not fast enough. Thick fingers knotted into dark hair, pulling him upwards.

Noting the dust on the man's boots and faded denims, 97 supposed this Shepherd had recently been out in the gardens, most likely overseeing the empty omegas in their tending. He remembered when he'd first arrived at the Deacon's hold. He'd worked five seasons amidst the rows, and the smell of earth and sky, of growth, the feel of a breeze or the sun on his skin were memories he re-visited often in his lonely cell.

Sometimes when the Shepherds came in from outdoors they carried these nostalgic scents with them, but not today. 97's nose had been assaulted by the Alpha's pungent aroma the moment the seal to his door had been breached. It was one he knew and was wisely fearful of.

Lifted now to his feet, 97 cringed when the big man before him leaned in and began hungrily scenting his neck where it was tender and bare above his collar. In his current condition, his keen nose was even more sensitive and the closeness of his afternoon's Shepherd made him want to gag. The man smelled of moss and rotting wood, of stagnant pools crusted with algae.

Swallowing hard, 97 tried to keep down the bile he felt rising in his throat.

The Alpha's low voice growled beside him. "What ? No warm greeting for me?"

The Shepherd noted the subtle turn of the boy's head to the side as if to get away. Strong fingers stayed clamped into the rich, brown-almost black curls, holding, as his other hand slapped the omega's face.

Despite his upset, the blow was measured: hard enough to hurt, soft enough to leave no more than a lingering blush on the pale cheek.

Tear's filled the teen's eyes, both at the sting and the shame that filled him: he was being a bad omega.

This Alpha Better was here to take him out for his exercise, he should be grateful, wiggling with excitement, peppering his Shepherd's hands with kisses. Instead, he was just standing there, actively resisting his attentions. It didn't matter that he was doing so because the man's scent sickened him and he was struggling to keep his rebellious stomach under control.

"Please, Alpha…" The words were exhaled on a shaky breath. 97 kept his eyes down, not daring, from beneath his thick lashes, to even try to catch a glimpse of the face looming above. Though he really didn't need to; he could feel the barely restrained irritation, scent the oily musk of the Alpha's desire to hurt him.

A whimper designed to placate, escaped him.

He was not as worried today, however, as he would have been other times. It was a small but significant comfort to know that the Alpha, _Azazel_ the other Shepherd's called him, wouldn't hurt him too badly, not since he'd been bred. Even so, lifting a hand from where it dangled submissively at his side, 97 cupped a palm protectively over his belly.

At least the Alphas weren't supposed to be rough now, though sometimes, despite the Deacon's warnings, Shepherds ravaged their omega flock anyways, this one in particular.

As if to illustrate this point, the fingers tangled in his dark mane tightened and jerked. New tears filled 97's eyes at the sudden burn of his scalp. An earlobe was nipped harshly and the Alpha hissed with ripe breath into his ear.

"_Please_ is a good start. Go on…"

"P-please, Alpha… forgive…"

Blue eyes widened and the boy's breath caught when his warden nipped him again, hard, in response. This time on the side of his neck. He trembled and stuttered.

"T-thank you; omega is not worthy."

Chills shivered up his spine at the low chuckle Azazel offered in reply to this rote recitation. A thick tongue swept up his slap-pinked cheek. 97 did his best not to shudder at the sensation.

"No, 97 you're not worthy! So be grateful I feel like honoring you with my attentions!"

After hissing this, Azazel's alpha tongue continued its trek, leaving behind a glistening trail of thick spit. His ward tried to make himself pliant when the tongue retracted and his stubbled face leaned in. The omega's head was pulled back by the hand in his hair while Azazel's other suddenly seized 97's jaw.

While a meeting of mouths with an omega was below most Shepherds, 97 knew too well that this one favored the transgression. Realizing that the Shepherd intended to attack his lips, he could too easily imagine the greasy, swamp-slick tongue opening him up.

It pleased Azazel to feel the lean body in his hands slip into an even more subdued state. A grin split his face when plush pink lips parted slightly, in what he anticipated, was eagerness for a Better's blessing of touch.

"Good boy."

The smile was lost in an instant, however, when 97's head spasmed in his hands and the acrid smell of bile filled the air as vomit spewed from his mouth.

In an instant the boy was on his knees, pushed away hard in disgust.

"What the… You stupid, worthless, omega bitch!"

"S-sorry… Please Alpha… Litter-sickness… Please forgive."

Each word was gasped out between retches as the slight omega curled in on himself, shielding his swelling midsection in case the Alpha decided to lash out with a kick. While he'd steeled himself for the anticipated blow, the boy had not braced himself for Azazel's cruel words.

"I can see why your family dumped you on the Deacon's doorstep! Ridding themselves of offal like you; that act alone might be enough to get their names on the white tablets."

As part of learning their place, Deacon Cowley required all omegas in the compound to attend scripture sessions, though Azazel thought the notion dangerously liberal and a waste. In his mind, pure omegas were less than animals, just a few functions above brainless and he doubted that the crumpled boy now brokenly sobbing at his feet even comprehended half of what he said. Still this didn't stop him from using scripture to make his points, and even if 97 couldn't appreciate the complexities of Brethren doctrine, there was no doubt the omega understood his tone and could smell his disgust.

Azazel sneered, continuing his verbal attack, "You'd think with as many times as you've whelped, you'd be past this sort of sorriness!

"What a foul omega you must be for Spirit to make your bearing so troubled. I am amazed Creator would even allow pure Alpha seed to take root in a vessel as irredeemable! But then again, you lost the last one, didn't you?"

A wicked grin split Azazel's crude face. Since the bitch was bearing he couldn't properly chastise 97 for his transgression, but, on the off chance the omega did have any kind of comprehension, there were other ways to inflict damage.

"No wonder Deacon Crowley takes your pups as soon as your sorry omega slit spits them out! Who the hell would let any innocent remain in such a corrupt presence?"

Though he tried to hold it back, a low keening built in 97's throat. The Deacon had told him that if he was good, after what had happened last time, he might be able to keep this pup with him, at least until it was designated. Now he'd made a Shepard angry there was no way this would ever happen.

Azazel would tell on him and his favor would fall even further.

Internally 97 quailed, fearing that the Deacon would somehow be aware of his transgression already.

Deacon Crowley knew most everything.

"Speaking of the Deacon, you better cut out that sniveling and get up. He wants to see you after your exercises."

Azazel was pleased to note his omega charge stopped crying almost immediately at these words, nor was he blind to how 97's lean frame began to tremor. This reaction didn't surprise him in the least. He knew he had nothing on Crowley when it came to maintaining discipline in the Flock.

The Deacon was also the only one on the compound allowed to fully use a pregnant Deacon was a lucky bastard: Azazel thought it must be immensely satisfying to spill seed over another Alpha's spawn... especially in an unbonded omega, swollen and helpless.

Chosen by Spirit as he was, if an omega miscarried after Crowley's attentions, it meant the vessel had been tainted and the pup shouldn't have been allowed to see light.

Azazel wondered what the Deacon wanted the omega for and if Crowley would deign to enter 97 again after what had happened last time. It had cost the Brethren a pretty penny, losing the pup fees and having to offer a free breeding, since 97 had been bred by an Alpha outside the compound. Little 97 was a cash cow normally with all his pretty pups. In fact, he couldn't remember 97 ever being free bred by one of the Brethren compound's internal sanctified Alphas.

_Maybe I should see if Crowley would give me a go. He certainly owes me._

He was jarred from these thoughts when his omega charge shakily rose, making sure to keep his head down, shoulders bowed.

"We're late for your PT; so you can clean your mess later. Remember, your vessel belongs to your Betters and all you have to do is keep it pleasing and producing.

"You don't want to add a fat ass to your long list of sins, do you?"

Azazel's chuckle at his own witty remark drifted into a snort of disgust when 97 remained silent.

"Why I waste my good humor…" Though truthfully, if 97 had answered the alpha would have beaten him for it as severely as possible within the limits of his state

Reaching into his jean pocket, Azazel pulled out a lead and clipped this to the collar on the same ring that bore the tag indicating 97's flock number. Once secured, he gave the leash a sharp tug.

"Come on. I forgive... For now." Azazel smirked and grabbed his crotch. "You can do your penance later."

Breeding a pregnant omega's ass might be forbidden to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't bless the boy's mouth with his seed. And what a mouth 97 had. Even better, he knew that with the omega's litter-sickness, he'd be in his rights for pushing the level of punishment if the boy couldn't keep his spend down: it was a significant sin for an omega to spill any Alpha seed.

"What do you say, omega?"

Although his head was down, the Shepherd's crude gesture had not gone unnoticed and, despite Azazel's thoughts on omega intelligence, 97 had understood every word. He had simply learned long ago that there was safety in pretending simplicity.

No one liked a smart omega.

"Thank you, Alpha."

His words were correct, but there was no life in them. The Shepherd's taunts had torn through the curtain of fantasy that he'd been nurturing and he realized now that his arms would never hold the new pup growing within him, his fifth in seven years.

Dipping his head lower as a different sort of sickness took hold of him, 97's empty arms shifted, slipping behind his back. He clasped his hands together there in the perfect posture of submission.

With a grunt of approval, Azazel turned sharply on his booted heels. Another hard jerk on the lead had 97 following dispiritedly after him.

* * *

Dean's manicured hand idly spun the two fingers of aged scotch that had been set out for him five minutes prior. The bar was relatively crowded with office and young executive types catching a drink after working into the evening, and those, like him, who were waiting for their table to open in the busy restaurant next door. Dean could only imagine the scents swirling in the air of this swinging locale.

Despite the crowd, the stool next to him where he sat at the end of the counter remained open. His strong alpha energy emitted a discernible "don't bother me vibe," that outside a few longing looks from seeking beta's and even one obvious omega, had managed to keep most of the bar's other patron's away.

"Whiskey sour."

Green eyes shifted over and he watched another alpha slip onto the seat beside him. In his rumpled suit and heavy beard, the guy looked out of place amidst the teems of upwardly-mobile twenty and thirty-somethings that populated the trendy watering hole.

"You're feeling brave, Old Man."

"It'll take more than a five-hundred dollar suit and a snarl to intimidate me, Young Blood." The older Alpha snorted.

A smile twisted Dean's lips for the first time that evening. "Good to see you, Bobby." He held out his hand.

Bobby took it, his grip holding its usual warmth and strength. "Nice to see you too. It's been a while."

To an outside observer, the exchange would look like just two guys, casually meeting, the kind of thing that happened in bars a million times a night. Turning around, Bobby set his elbows on the bar. His eyes made what he hoped would be interpreted as the standard alpha sweep of a new space.

"Wow, you get to hang out in places like this all the time? Must be rough for a poor boy like you: all this fanciness!"

"This is nothing," Dean brought his glass to his lips and swallowed. Knowing that he popped two alcohol arresters in the cab before coming in, the burn of the scotch wasn't nearly as pleasing.

"You should see the place I'm having dinner." He motioned to the opening that connected the bar to restaurant next door. "The price will break your wallet, the portion will fit in your breast pocket, and service is rated by how rude the waiters are.

"Do you know how many pizzas I could order and get delivered with a smile for what they charge at that place?"

"Nice to know your promotion hasn't been all perks then." Bobby settled in after his eyes found nothing in the immediate surroundings to cause concern. "I was worried I might have to start feeling jealous."

"You know I'd trade places with you any day... I miss the unit."

Looking over, Bobby met Dean's eyes. "Feeling's mutual, Squirt."

In the three year's he'd been deep undercover and away from the team, Dean noted that the older alpha's face had acquired more lines, marks etched both by the stress of the job and by the terrible things that he saw every day as the head of the FBI's Omega Protection and Recovery Program. He wondered how his own face looked now too, in comparison to when he'd started this gig.

What he'd seen and done in his stint undercover had been miles away from easy. Even so, Dean felt a familiar guilt rise inside him. Others had it far harder than he.

Although he knew the three years were necessary, one guilt beget another and, despite the fact he'd promised himself he wouldn't ask, the question spilled out of him.

"You seen Sammy lately?"

Turning back to the bar, Bobby picked up his drink and swirled it around thoughtfully.

"That's not the kind of thing you should be thinking about. Not with what's about to go down in a couple hours."

After taking a deep draught of the whiskey, Bobby turned back. He shook his head.

The kid might be able to keep his features schooled enough for deep cover, but when it came to Sam, Dean was an open book. He could tell at once that Winchester had misinterpreted his response, thinking that there was something wrong with his brother and not that he'd been concerned with Dean's focus in light of tonight's precarious operation.

"Sam's fine," Bobby murmured at last. "Saw him just last week, in fact." He sighed silently seeing the stiffness suddenly leave Dean's shoulders.

"I promised you I'd look out for him while you were gone and I have. Sam cusses me out every time for bothering him with my weekly calls to the center; tells me he _doesn't need babysitting, he gets enough of that with the staff_."

A light smile curled the corner of Dean's lips.

"Sounds like him. They haven't threatened to throw him out again lately, have they?"

Bobby gave him a lopsided grin back. "Nah. But every time they get a new doc at that place they want to have him put through the designation process again, just to make sure he's really an omega."

At the word "omega" both men frowned. They were of the mind that classifying people on the base of their biology was atrocious and antiquated and each had omegas in their lives who had suffered immensely for nothing more than the random throw of genetics' die.

It was being witness to this that had brought them together in the effort to do what they could to prevent other omegas from experiencing the same terrible kinds of abuse. But unfortunately, while things had improved over the last decade in most states and being an omega had certainly shifted in status in many ways, there was still way too much to be done.

It had been one of the hardest decision's in Dean's life to agree to take on the assignment that would hopefully come to its conclusion later tonight.

Knowing that he'd have no contact at all with Sam for three years would have been unbearable without Bobby's assurance he'd keep tabs on him. But after what Sam had been through, there was also no way that Dean could have rightfully brought himself to turn down the opportunity to take on this particular job.

His mind flashed back, to what had happened to them and to what his baby brother had been reduced to when he'd finally found him again.

_No, I can't go there now._

Steering himself from the past and back to the present was a skill that Dean had worked hard to master. Now, he just wanted tonight to be over; maybe take a little time off after; re-connect with Sammy again. He could feel the instinctive alpha protectiveness he'd always carried for his younger brother tight in his gut.

"Everything ready?" Dean downed the last of his scotch and straightened.

"Locked, cocked, and ready to rock, as the young guys like to say," Bobby growled. "Though I wish to hell you were going in with a weapon. Just having us hanging out like that Dean, waiting…"

Dean shook his head. They both knew that these guys were big time and thorough. Any weapon found on him would only end up with him dead and the whole mission, his three years, and the rest of all the teams' work, down the shitter for nothing.

Bobby nodded, but his expression was grim. There was nothing more to say.

Dean watched as the older man reached into his breast pocket and withdrew his billfold. With impressive skill, Bobby pulled out a bill to hand to the bartender, managing at the same time to slip a thin white packet under the napkin his glass had been set on.

Noticing his dinner date had shown up at the bar's entrance and was scanning the crowd for him, Dean made a show of setting his glass down on Bobby's napkin and pulling out his own wallet. He pushed Bobby's extended twenty aside. "Let me get that drink for you, Old-timer."

Bobby too had seen the target. He set his glass down on the polished wood and pushed himself away from the bar. "Nice to know a pure alpha like yourself still has manners enough to respect his elders. Thanks."

He gave Dean a curt nod and headed off into the crowd moving in the direction of the men's room.

Dean turned back to the bar and swept the napkin, and what was under it, into his suit's breast pocket along with his wallet. He ordered another scotch before looking back and catching his dinner companion's eye with a wave of his fingers.

His new drink arrived on the bar before him at the same time as his low alpha contact drew up alongside.

"Tanner." He greeted. "Took you long enough. I thought you'd backed out and neglected to call me." Despite the light rebuff in his tone, Dean gave the man a bright smile and a handshake, though in truth, Duane Tanner and all he stood for made his skin crawl.

"Hamilton," Tanner greeted back addressing Dean by his alias. His manner was reserved, as always. "Traffic. What can I say?" He cocked his head towards the open door that lead into the restaurant. "Ready for our dinner meeting?"

Dean widened his grin, turning on his all-American alpha charm.

"Yeah, let's go. I'm starving."

He bent and picked up the briefcase that had been sitting at the floor by his feet and patted the rich leather. "But even more than dinner, I'm really interested to see what you might have on the menu for dessert."

* * *

**Thank you for reading and your reviews and feedback is much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bound Heart, Frayed Knotts**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_Male pure alpha + Female pure alpha, female alpha carrying = 75% chance of Male/Female beta offspring or 25% chance of Male/Female pure omega offspring_

_Male pure alpha + Female pure omega, female carrying = 50% chance Male/Female pure alpha offspring, 50% chance Male/Female pure omega offspring _

_Male pure alpha + Male pure omega, omega carrying = 50% Male pure alpha offspring, 25% Female alpha offspring, 25% Male _pure omega offspring.

_Male pure or low alpha + Female beta, female carrying= 80% Male/Female beta offspring, 20% low Male/Female alpha or omega offspring,_

_Male pure or low alpha + Male beta= no offspring _

_Male pure or low alpha + Male pure or low alpha= no offspring_

When his father, Professor John Winchester, had first insisted his five-year old son commit this list of genetic possibilities to memory, Dean had thought this stupid (along with all the other arcane knowledge foisted onto him). But over the course of his life, this rote recitation had actually ended up serving him quite well.

_Female pure alpha + Female pure omega, omega carrying = 75% Female beta offspring, 25% female omega offspring_

_Female pure alpha + male pure omega, omega carrying = 75% Male pure omega offspring 25% beta/omega Female offspring. _

Returning to this list had become an automatic response now, and Dean's personal version of "counting to ten" whenever he needed a distraction. Which happened way more than he'd ever admit.

Rolling over the various birth combinations in his head helped quell his innate, pure alpha instincts to react quickly and violently. And although his easy, all-American-boy demeanor had held fast so far, Dean had already run through this roster six times now since he and Tanner had taken their seats at the table.

_Female pure or low alpha, + Male low alpha, pure/low omega, female carrying = 80% chance of Male/Female beta offspring, 10% chance of Male/Female low omega offspring, 10% chance of Male/Female low alpha offspring_

_Female pure or low alpha + Male beta, female carrying = _100% Male/Female beta offspring

_Female pure or low alpha + Female pure or low alpha or Female Beta= no offspring_

_Female low alpha+Male low omega, female or omega carrying= 50% Male low omega offspring 25% beta/low omega Female offspring, 25%low alpha male offspring, _

_Male beta +Female beta, female carrying= 100% Male/Female beta offspring_

_Male beta +Pure omega/low Female, omega carrying= 80% chance Male/Female beta offspring, 20% chance Male/Female low omega offspring. _

The first time they'd met, Dean designated Duane Tanner an asshole after just a few minutes and none of his subsequent interactions had yet to make him change this opinion. In fact, not only had their meetings further confirmed the guy's general assholery, but had also revealed him to be even worse: Tanner was a truly fanatical asshole to boot.

_Male beta+ pure or low Male omega =no offspring_

_Male pure or low omega + Male pure or low omega= 50% beta male/female offspring, 50% low omega male or female offspring_

_Female beta+ pure or low Male omega, female carrying= 100% beta offspring_

_Female beta + female pure or low omega = no offspring_

Tonight had not gone much differently than any of their other appointments. Even so, Dean had almost immediately wanted to slink off to the shower and scrub himself raw to purge himself from the filth of Tanner and his organization.

Their initial small talk too quickly turned to politics and Dean had to appropriately commiserate on the terrible oppression of the religious right: what with the whole country having "gone crazy with its liberal pro-omega propaganda." This had been bad enough, but then they had been two minutes into their appetizers when Tanner, in an unusual show of humor, had started in on a string of horribly inappropriate omega jokes and the guy was still on a tear.

Nothing too lewd of course, being a man of faith, after all.

Regardless, his jibes at the expense of the "spiritually and biologically challenged" as Tanner had so piously put it, turned Dean's stomach. Now he sat wishing he puked up those ridiculous fairy foods all over the guy's thousand dollar suit when he had the chance.

_Male low alpha + pure omega male/female, omega carrying= 50% beta offspring/ 25% low omega offspring, 25% low alpha offspring._

_Male beta + pure or low alpha female, female carrying= 95% beta offspring, 5% low omega offspring_

_Female beta + Female beta= no offspring_

_Male beta +Male beta = no offspring_

Dean had just reached the end of his internal genetic mantra again, and his limited patience, when Tanner's last joke hit its punchline.

_Thank fuck!_

Chuckling with a lightness he in no way felt, Dean brought out the smile he normally saved only for greeting puppies and getting pussy. He felt it falter, however, when Tanner started in on yet another joke.

This time, he cut him off.

"Do you mind if I ask where you got that suit, Tanner? I mean, it doesn't strike me as the usual South Dakota fare."

Dean watched Tanner's face flicker with annoyance at his interruption but doubted, since he was the higher alpha here, that Tanner would make anything of it.

Still, it was a risk deviating from script, all the Brethren bastards Dean had dealt with over the last three years were touchy as hell and batshit crazy to boot. And even though he was more or less "in" now, he still needed to watch his step. It would be incredibly tragic if he were to somehow blow tonight's operation because he couldn't stand to hear one more politically incorrect joke.

Fortunately, Tanner overlooked the rudeness, secretly pleased with the pure alpha's notice of his suit. "I travel a lot for the church, uh… in our _endeavors_… I picked it up in L.A."

"Obviously not off the rack."

Meeting the green eyes across the table from him, Duane found he was able to hold "Hamilton's" bright stare for no more than a few seconds.

"Oh no, it's tailored. "

This was the third time that Duane had met with the pure alpha, and Hamilton had always previously struck him, despite the transaction they were in the process of completing, as both incredibly hetero and equally unobservant. Tonight, that the higher alpha noted the care with which he'd dressed, sent a jolt to his gut that both thrilled an unnerved him.

A vision suddenly filled Duane's mind and he saw himself under pure-alpha Hamilton, dripping with cum, stuffed and broken with his knot. At such a thought, as a male alpha, all be it low, he felt shame's burn catch in his core alongside his desire.

"Fits you." Dean offered this tilting his head just a bit to the side, his instincts honing in on Tanner's sudden blush.

He probed for the source of the discomfort, wishing again that the agency mandated scent filters that had been grafted into his nasal passages upon completing academy training weren't quite so effective at blocking. It would have made Tanner so much easier to read.

"And given the cut of it, it seems like the Brethern's _endeavors_ have been lucrative."

Tanner's blush darkened. "Spirit wants his people to be prosperous. And it's important to the council that their Shepherds represent the church with good appearance."

There was genuine defensiveness in the tone and Dean noted this before lifting his hands in mock surrender, despite his higher status. "Hold on there, Champ. It wasn't meant as a criticism. I mean, I'm grateful myself for all Spirit's blessings. "

His cover was quite "blessed" in fact. Vice president of a small custom auto parts company, on paper Dean, aka Rick Hamilton, looked flush. Good thing too, or otherwise he would have never even been considered as a viable client for the Brethren's "family planning services," despite the fact he'd been a traveling member of the order for two and a half years now.

Reaching down, Dean lifted the case from the floor beside him and set it on the edge of the table. A reminder of just how "blessed" he'd been.

"And of course, I'm grateful also to the Deacon, for helping ensure that I can pass the Spirit's largess along to the worthy and continue to be blessed in a new way myself."

_This is such horseshit._

As if living with his dad's academic speak for years wasn't bad enough, Dean hated all the flock talk he'd had to add to his vocabulary, how pompous he sounded.

But the words and the tone had their desired effect and the heat in Tanner's face lifted at this. Dean was immensely relieved to see the shepherd's crazy eyes smooth out. Swallowing back the acid that had risen in his throat, Dean added.

"Fifty-thousand, is a small price to pay for righteous offspring."

Across from him Tanner's blond head nodded enthusiastically. Duane waited, however, until the waiter who'd arrived with their main course departed to comment further.

"Now, remember, Mr. Hamilton, once again, that fifty is merely the down payment."

Dean couldn't help himself, he hadn't eaten much that day and despite how his gut twisted, the pitiful appetizers had apparently jump-started his appetite. So, mission or not, he cut into his steak the second it was placed before the size of it in no way merited its forty dollar price tag, Dean was at least pleased with its bloodiness.

"Of, course. The other half on the delivery of my pure alpha son." This was said around a mouthful of meat.

Seeing Tanner's raised eyebrow he corrected himself. "Or daughter."

"I mean, Liz will be happy with whatever we have, but you know… What guy doesn't want a son?"

Tanner hummed in agreement.

In principle, there was nothing he'd like better than a strong alpha son himself, or at least an alpha daughter. But while low alphas on the Brethren's capitol compound could exercise their alpha status at any time on an empty omega not in heat, they were prohibited by the orders' bylaws from mating without the council and Deacon Crowley's approval.

It was only last year he'd been put on the Shepherd's list, so Duane knew if he was lucky and stayed in the council and the Deacon's good graces, it would still be at least another two years before a pure omega was given to him as his own. Not that he minded this too much, he had empty omegas at his disposal in the meantime and what's more, he knew he needed this time to rid himself of his unnatural inclinations.

Following this vein of thought, Duane's balls hitched watching Hamilton devouring his steak with such feral vigor. He could feel his cock rousing too at the sight of the beautiful mouth, a bloody drip caught at one corner, just begging to be cleansed by the tip of a tongue.

How Tanner wished it could be his.

"And your wife, she really doesn't mind you breeding an omega male?" The question left Duane's mouth before he could stop himself.

Tanner's query stopped Dean in his tracks mid-chew and he swallowed hard. His mind flashed to Lisa Braeden, aka Elizabeth "Liz" Hamilton, the other half of his front, holding down their fake life in Kansas City.

"Well, when you are both pure alphas, the options are limited foe a pure alpha heir are limited; especially since we both want to keep the Spirit pure in our line."

Dean wasn't sure if it was the chunk of meat in his throat or the Brethren's doctrine of "pure alpha" supremacy that made him feel like he might suddenly choke: there was so much he hated about being Hamilton. "And you can't think a pure alpha female is going to let her alpha husband go out and breed with some heated omega bitch do you? Excuse my language."

"No need to apologize; it is unfortunate modern times have stripped our old words from us." The line rolled glibly off Tanner's tongue while his spine still tingled from hearing the word "bitch" fall from Hamilton's marvelous mouth. Already he knew he'd be hearing it in his fantasies for weeks to come.

"And, yes, given the strong claiming instinct all alpha's share, I imagine this would be difficult for her." Tanner was far more uneasy than Crowley that Hamilton and his wife were one of those "love" pairings and both alphas to boot. But the "Revelation" had given license for hetro dual-alpha couples. Internally Tanner wished that the same equity had been extended in the Brethren's doctrines for homo dual-alpha couplings too.

"Yeah, so this will be much easier all the way around. I mean, same-sex seeding isn't high on my list, but this way she knows there won't be any chance of attachment."

Tanner felt his chest and some other parts of himself ache unexpectedly at these words, but he plastered a smile on his face. "Well, as you'll soon find out, the 'seeding' process at the compound is conducted to be as sterile as possible.

"All our vessels are fitted with sensory hoods to prevent any possibility of a bond of any sort forming."

Dean frowned down at what remained of his steak, his appetite suddenly gone. His mind filled with images of omegas bound, blind, deaf, and scentless being systematically raped, their bodies used as nothing more than containers for offspring they'd never get to know.

The sudden memory of Sam as he'd found him almost a year after he'd been taken swam before Dean's eyes.

"Mr. Hamilton?"

Dean looked up and saw the perplexed expression on Tanner's face.

"It just…" Light color filled Dean's cheeks at how husky his voice was. He dropped his eyes back down for a minute, scrambling to regain his composure.

_Nut up, Winchester. You can spend as much time looking back as you want to in a few more hours, though fuck only knows why you'd want to. Right now though, you have to keep your mind sharp and your head in the game. _

Pulling in a deep breath, Dean raised his head and gave Tanner a weak grin. "It's, you know... Realizing I am going to be a father soon… It kind of just hit me."

As Dean watched Tanner's eyes soften, despite the flashback hiccup, he obviously hadn't lost the ol' Winchester charm. The Brethren's baby broker smiled knowingly back. "It's an amazing thing that you'll be creating soon, Mr. Hamilton."

Reaching down beside him, Tanner pulled up his own case. Reaching inside it he drew out a smaller leather satchel. Opening it up, the padded interior revealed that its contents: six glass vials glinted beneath the restaurant's overhead lights.

"Maybe this would be a good time for you to make your selection. That way I can call as soon as we've finished here and by the time we drive up to the compound, everything will be ready and waiting for you."

Dean took the offered packet carefully. The vials held the residue of slick from various omegas chosen by Deacon Crowley or the council after reviewing his petition for "family assistance."

His alpha blood boiled looking at the innocuous tubes. It filled him with an unspeakable rage that while buying, selling, and forcefully breeding omegas was now outlawed in every American state, operations carried out by groups like Crowley's Brethren continued these practices underground.

_And all under the auspices of fucking religious freedom_.

Thankfully Tanner's voice broke into Dean's thoughts just before his world turned completely red.

"The one with the gold cap is for your sinuses. You should sniff it in between omegas 'to cleanse your palette,' so to speak."

Silently thanking the Academy for the mandatory nasal filters, Dean leaned back in his chair and took out the first vial. "Here's to blessing the world with another alpha."

He lifted the bottle in a mock salute that in no way met how he felt. From across the table Tanner looked on with a glow that sickened Dean as he popped the lid and leaned in to take a tentative sniff.

It had been so long since he'd been in the presence of a heated omega; he had almost forgotten what it was it was like, what a rush the scent could give. Thanks to the filters, however, he felt virtually nothing. What met him through his muffled nose on first sniff was light and held traces of jasmine and honey. Spicy and sweet, it struck Dean as cloying rather than arousing.

Still, he pretended to sniff deeper as he exhaled a sigh. "Damn, Tanner, that's fine!" He added a bit more growl to his tone as he said this and puffed up.

_I should win a fucking academy award for this performance._

Duane watched the high alpha respond to the first omega's essence. The scent was potent enough he caught a whiff of it from across the table and felt the front of his trousers suddenly twitch. Or maybe it was the combination of scent and the sight of Hamilton's suddenly heat-proud posture.

"Nice isn't he?"

Tanner watched the pure alpha quickly reseal the cap. He, in the meanwhile began to extoll all the virtues of this particular "vessel." After Hamilton asked a few common questions and he answered, he continued.

"Shall we go on to the next?"

Dean nodded.

"I'll just clear my nose."

He reached out for the cleansing vial. Knowing what he did now about the omega whose essence had been milked for his approval made the poor "vessel" only seem that much more real to him and Dean wanted to rid himself of the scent as quickly as possible.

Lifting the new vial to his nose, he unscrewed the gold cap and inhaled deeply.

In an instant his world shattered.

His mind suddenly swam with the mixed aromas of summer rain, the leather seats of his impala, and the cottonwood-lined banks of the green-watered river where he'd spent the best days of his childhood. Dean felt his chest constrict at the same time his heart suddenly pumped to ten times its normal size. He took another deep draught on impulse and thought he could actually feel his pupils dilate.

This time he smelled gun oil, the mix of diesel and grease from his grandfather's shop; the way Sammy's hair smelled when he was still just baby after Dean had just washed it for him.

Any polish cultivated for Hamilton fell instantly away, leaving Dean bare and completely raw.

"What the fuck kind of shit is this, Tanner?"

Everything seemed suddenly too bright, too loud, and the ache in Dean's groin was nothing compared to he felt in his chest.

It was like someone had just torn his soul in half.

* * *

**Long time between updates... Well at least it's just one chapter to review if you've forgotten it. Hopefully the next chapter will come sooner. There will be more world defining and backstory next chapter or two. Then the shit will hit the fan and all hell break loose.**

**Thank you for all the reviews and the follows and favorites! Hope they'll continue. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Bound Hearts, Frayed Knotts**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

It had been almost ten hours now since 97 had been brought up to Deacon Crowley's personal suite and the man still had yet to make an appearance.

Not that 97 minded this.

"Meeting "with the Deacon was never a pleasant experience and, while waiting left a hard stone of fear in his gut, without Crowley present, despite the oppressive alpha aroma, being in the Deacon's apartment alone was actually nice. Unlike his isolated incubation cell, Crowley's quarters were bright and open, the polished hardwood floors and lush carpets a sharp contrast to the dull concrete of his small room.

But more than this, Crowley's had windows.

Once it became clear the Deacon was not likely to turn up any time soon, 97 had shifted to a seated position from his waiting posture, kneeling, forehead pressed to the floor. While his keen ears and nose had kept on the alert for any indication of the Deacon or one of the Shepherds approaching, for as long as the light had held, his blue gaze had remained fixed on the apartment's large windows.

It had been seven years since 97 had last been outside the mansion housing the Brethren's "Family Fulfillment Center." Given this, sweeping from one glass pane to another, to his wondering eyes, each visible swaying pine branch outside or the occasional darting bird had seemed a thing of magic.

Now, however, it was dark, the world beyond the Center cut off once more, and 97 had been sitting on the omega rug in Crowley's apartment for so long his limbs howled with the need to move.

Suddenly, his stomach growled, adding its complaints too, having been emptied when Azazel had come for him.

After that he'd been swept from PT straight to grooming, and then to the Deacon's suite without lunch. Now, he'd obviously missed dinner as well, and even though he was bearing, the likelihood of eating again before morning's meal was remote.

Feeling the frustrated flutter of tiny limbs join in his stomach's protests, 97 issued a silent apology to the pup in his belly for the day's lack of sustenance. Unfortunately for him though, hunger, wasn't top on his list of discomforts: in addition to all these other things, his bladder was excruciatingly full.

He groaned and shifted; grateful the baby wasn't so big yet as to truly complicate things.

Only just into his second trimester, this one seemed on the smaller side so far. But having so many pups already had weakened his ability to hold his water and 97 knew if he didn't do something quickly he would soon have an accident.

Even so, fear gripped him hard at the thought of moving off of the omega rug again.

He'd already been to the bathroom three times while waiting, twice to pee and once because of his litter-sickness. Each of these times he had pushed himself right to the edge of his limits before venturing off the mat.

And, as in these instances, the only thing that helped him finally move now was the knowledge that the punishment for being out of bounds would likely be far lighter than it would for being a "dirty omega" and soiling Crowley's ornate vessel's rug.

Heart beating loudly in his ears, at last 97 stood. He shivered at the pins and needles in his taxed limbs. Standing, the sudden effects of gravity didn't help his weighted bladder at all, but despite the increased urgency, he hesitated.

It wasn't just Crowley's permeating Alpha stink surrounding him, his years of conditioning, or the fear of being caught and punished, which caused him to pause. It was because in order to reach the bathroom, he knew he would have to walk past Crowley's breeding barrel again.

Glancing over at the Deacon's barrel, a tremor shook 97's lean frame.

Breeding barrels were an object of terror for the Flock's omegas and all of the seeding suites in the Center held one. Such barrels had been used to subdue unwilling omegas for centuries, although in recent decades they'd been deemed inhumane and were now illegal in most states.

While 97 knew nothing about what the civilized world thought; he held a similar aversion to the devices. Any omega unfortunate enough to find itself forced down over a b-barrel and cinched in, knew the horror of complete vulnerability. Unable to move at all, ass and mouth fixed at the perfect heights for mounting and available for anyone inclined to take them.

Far too familiar with this apparatus, at just a glance, 97could almost feel the press of the leather-padded cylinder underneath him, legs draped and cuffed at the base of one side, his hands the other, the chafing belt strapping down his low back just above the hips.

Combine this kind of immobilization with the sensory deprivation hoods that the Fulfillment Center used to ensure there would be no unintentional bonding, the hoods heightening every tactile sensation for their wearers one-hundred fold, and one had the purest prescription for terror.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, at last 97 pushed one foot over the boundary of his rug.

After this, while shaky, his steps came easier. Faster too as he passed by Crowley's barrel, eyes averted. The Deacon's rig was constructed with a special modification to accommodate his personal tastes, with a strategically place hollow and adjustable sling to support the swollen belly of an omega at any point in his pregnancy.

Once he'd made it to the bathroom, 97 exhaled a breath of relief. Another followed as he sat and, pressing his limp cock down between his legs, released his stream into the bowl. Standing would have been easier but, deemed too proud a posture, it was discouraged for Brethren omegas.

Once finished, he stood and flushed, making sure after that he left no sign of himself behind. While washing his hands at the marble sink, 97 took a risk and filled his cupped hands with water, drinking deeply. He did this several times hoping to alleviate his hunger as, now that he'd peed, it was suddenly fierce.

As soon as he shut off the water, tipping his head to the side, 97 listened.

A glance in the mirror would have shown a sudden loss of color as he winced and darted back out into the main room. 97 knew it was terrible of him, but he offered a short thanks to Spirit, when he made it back to the mat and resumed his position before Crowley had fully entered his suite.

Fresh Deacon scent filled his nose well before Crowley would have been visible, had 97's head been up and not pressed to the floor. At the pungency of it, the information it contained regarding the man's emotional state, a surge of fear coursed through him and even the pup in his belly, who had been moving all evening, seemed to immediately slip into a tense stillness.

When the Deacon began to sniff loudly, 97 crouched even lower down on his mat. He hadn't thought of how offensive it might be to the man to come home from a long day and find his apartment filled with the added reek of too-long present omega. Even with his afternoon grooming, 97 was sure he was foul already; told countless times over the years that his scent was just part of his curse and no amount of scrubbing would ever erase it.

"Ah, 97… I forgot that I'd asked Azazel to fetch you."

There was no inkling of apology in Crowley's voice and 97 didn't expect one to be there. He could have been left waiting for days and it would have been the same: Alphas didn't apologize to omegas… Ever.

To his side, the Deacon uttered a weary sigh. 97 could hear the man move over to where his desk sat and begin to settle in, setting his briefcase down on its slick surface and shuffling things. The omega obtained all his information from listening, not raising his raise his head to verify Crowley's actions, since he hadn't been given permission.

The ache in 97's belly pinched tighter when he heard the Deacon shift and step over to the washroom. After what seemed like an eternity filled with flushing and the turning of taps, the Deacon returned, coming to stand directly in front him.

"You left your mat."

Said in the Deacon's particular accent, the statement came out sounding almost conversational. But 97 knew better and could feel his body shake with the urge to roll over and show Crowley his belly at the barely audible growl in the words.

"Look at me, Castiel, and tell me the truth."

Dropped at the compound at the age of seven, it had been twelve years since 97 had a name instead of a number. No one but the Deacon ever called him "Castiel" anymore, and the way that he hissed it made all the tiny hairs on the back of the omega's neck stand on end.

It took everything 97 had to lift his head and his eyes, but he didn't dare disobey. He'd learned long ago to never deny Crowley.

"Y-yes, Alpha."

"More than once?"

97 bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. "Yes, Alpha."

"How many times?"

"F-four…" It had flashed through his mind to lie and minimize the number of trips, but the Deacon knew things and the punishment for such a falsehood, if found out, would be very severe.

"Reasons…"

Turning his head slightly to the side to bare more of his neck, 97 held Crowley's gaze. It was another peculiarity the Deacon had when in his quarters, as otherwise, direct eye contact by an omega with any Alpha was forbidden.

"Three times to p-pee, once for litter-sickness, Alpha." 97 risked tipping his angular jaw up higher. He was sure that Crowley could see the rapidity of his pulse in his throat.

"I'm s-sorry."

"Litter-sickness…. _Still,_ Castiel?"

The disapproval in the Deacon's tone caused 97's chin to dip down. It was considered a fault in a vessel to have any kind of complication during a pregnancy.

Crowley moved closer and his strong fingers roughly ruffed through the omega's dark hair.

"Next time wipe down the sink after you use it."

The gentle chide in his tone sent a wave of relief coursing through 97.

"Y-yes, Alpha. I'm sorry. Thank you."

One of the hardest things about being with Crowley was knowing how to respond. He could be jovial, charismatic, buoyant to the point of almost manic and then, like the flip of a switch, turn into a ranting, frothing, dervish. And the worst part about the Deacon's volatility was, regardless of what state he was in, Crowley always smelled sulfuricly furious.

97 watched carefully now as the Alpha moved back over to his desk and sat down in the rich leather chair behind it. Once settled, he tapped the top of his thigh like one would to call a hound. Without being specifically told he could walk, 97 crawled over to kneel at his feet.

Above him, on the surface of the desk Crowley pulled his worn copy of the Brethren's "Revelations" out of his briefcase. The battered tome was one of his trademarks and 97 had never seen the Deacon without it.

"You attend the study groups, Castiel?"

It struck 97 as a strange question: all omegas were required to go, to learn the holy words that informed their place in the Flock.

"Yes, Alpha. T-thank you."

"I'd like for you to read to me, Castiel."

This was another strangeness, and when the dog-eared book was shoved in front of him, 97 jumped. He tried to recover himself as quickly as possible; focusing his eyes on the verse the Deacon's manicured finger indicated. The chapter was one forced upon Flock omegas so much, he could have recited it from memory alone. Setting aside his growing apprehension at Crowley's peculiar behavior, 97 tilted his head just slightly to the side and drew a deep breath.

His voice was low and shaky both from fear and disuse.

_6__ And when the woman saw that the tree __was__ good for food, and that it __was__ pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make __one__ wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat.__7__ And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they __were__ naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons._

_8__ And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden. __9__ And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where __art__ thou?_

_10__ And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I __was__ naked; and I hid myself._

Chancing a glance upwards 97 was greeted with the Deacon's intense stare.

"Go on, Castiel."

With this permission, 97 began reading again, his voice steadier now.

_11 And he said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat? 12 And the man said, The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat._

_13 And the LORD God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat._

_14 And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life:_

_15 And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel._

_16 Unto the woman he said, from this day you shall not be called "Eve" but "omega." I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy mate, and he shall rule over thee mightily._

_17 And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy omega, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: You too shall have a new name: "Alpha."_

_18Alpha, this omega belongs to you and you left her alone. From this point on, without your provision she will fade or fall into folly. But do not expect her to value your headship, for though she will long for you, she will not offer herself freely._

_19And hers is not the only womb that will taunt you. No longer will any tree offer to you its fruit without toil. Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life;20 Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field;21In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return._

_22And Alpha called his wife's name omega; because the LORD decreed it and because he had been her beginning and now she had become his end._

"Castiel, stop there."

97 winced at the sound of Crowley's voice. He held still, his lean body trembling as the book was withdrawn. He loved reading. He relished words and it was far too easy for him to become lost in them, even though he had read these scriptures thousands of times.

It the comfort of his chair Crowley flipped through the thin, onionskin pages.

"You read well, Castiel."

97 tensed further: there was no praise in the observation. Cursing himself, he knew he should have stumbled more in his recitation.

_No one likes a smart omega._

"But then you came to us reading already… Didn't you?"

"Yes, Alpha."

"Do you remember how you came to us, Castiel? Who you belonged to before?"

A furrow formed on a nineteen year-old brow as 97 struggled with how to answer. Truthfully it seemed to him sometimes as though he'd been born on the day he'd awakened, trussed and lying on the ground outside the gates of the compound: everything before then was nothing but shadows and silence.

"I'm sorry, Alpha. Outside the Flock I don't remember anything."

The Deacon stared down at the naked, shivering omega beside him, eying him thoughtfully. He noted the shadow on the teen's jaw and wondered, since all omegas were kept hairless outside of their brows and the tops of their heads, how long shaving had been part of Castiel's grooming routine.

It was unusual for an omega male to have much of a beard and Crowley found his curiosity roused once more about Castiel's lines. But then, as much as he was a beautiful brood-vessel, Castiel was also just as much a mystery.

"I remember… " Crowley started. "I remember you read well then too. Surprising for an omega, and then one with only seven years.

"I recall also, you were quite proud of this trick."

That Crowley used the word "trick" instead of "skill" was not lost on the kneeling omega at his feet.

"We were able to correct that pride out you… Weren't we Castiel?"

"Yes, Alpha… T-thank you."

97 bowed his head and shifted uncomfortably, as memories of those terrible tamings flooded his memory.

"I wonder…" Crowley allowed his words to drift off. "Did we truly cure you of your pride, Castiel? Or have you been tricking us with your omega deviousness?"

A hand reached down and lifted 97's head pulling it upwards, but the omega held his eyes tightly closed, too fearful of what he might see in the Deacon's face otherwise.

"I am but a h-humble omega… P-please, Alpha… I want nothing m-more than to serve you…" 97 wondered if he'd stuttered as much in his reading if he might not be in this tenuous situation now.

"Read to me more then, Castiel. From here."

A sigh frustrated sigh escaped Crowley, "You can't bloody well read with your eyes closed, omega! Open them!"

When he opened his eyes, it took 97 a moment to blink back the tears that blurred his vision. It wasn't just the choking smell of alpha anger that had hit him hard; he was always easy to cry in front of the Deacon, and bearing now just made his omega emotions all the more unwieldy.

With a deep breath, he tried to still his hitching chest, as he murmured the words set before him.

_And there came two Angels to Sodom at evening; and Lot sat in the gate of Sodom: and Lot seeing them rose up to meet them; And he bowed himself with his face toward the ground;__2 __And he said, behold now, my lords, turn in, I pray you, into your servant's house, and tarry all night, and wash your feet, and ye shall rise up early, and go on your ways. And they said, Nay; but we will abide in the street all night._

_3 __And he pressed upon them greatly; and they turned in unto him, and entered into his house; and he made them a feast, and did bake unleavened bread, and they did eat.__4 __But before they lay down, the Alphas of the city, even the Alphas of Sodom, encompassed the house round, both old and young, all Alphas from every quarter:__5 __And they called unto Lot, and said unto him, Where are the men which came in to thee this night? They smell of blessed Alpha. Bring them out unto us, that we may know them in the omega way._

_6 __And Lot went out at the door unto them, and shut the door after him,__7 __and said, I pray you, brethren, do not so wickedly. _

_8 __Behold now, I have two omega daughters which have not known any Alpha; let me, I pray you, bring them out unto you, and do ye to them as is good in your eyes: only unto these Angel Alpha do nothing; For therefore came they under the shadow of my roof._

_9 __And the throngs of Alphas said, Stand back. Now will we deal worse with thee, than with them. And they pressed sore upon Lot, and came near to break the door.__10 __But the Angels put forth their hand, and pulled Lot into the house to them, and shut to the door.__11 __And they smote the Alphas that were at the door of the house with blindness, both small and great: so that they wearied themselves to find the door._

_12 __And the Angels said unto Lot, you offered to save us, but at the willing sacrifice of your omega daughters. What's more, you yourself desired to take us, just as you lingered outside with the city's Alphas for them to take you also. _

_13 __Yes, you offered your omegas and did not recognize the power that the LORD gives his messengers. You have become a corrupt Alpha, just as the Alphas of this city are corrupt too. Yet the LORD sent us to save you and your omegas. __For in Sodom now Alpha lies only with Alpha and the LORD has heard the cries of all the city's scorned omega. For this reason we will destroy this place; because of its wickedness the __Lord__ hath sent us to destroy it._

_14 __We will follow the LORD's orders to save you but such iniquity cannot continue. You shall be spared, but because you lusted yourself and did not likewise protect the omegas in your care, omega you will now be. Likewise, your mate and your daughters shall now be Alphas._

_15__Lower than the omega, Eve, you shall know the cost of the womb, the pain of being the sacrifice, and your desire for your alpha, male and female, will rule you even more strongly._

_16 __And when the morning arose, then the Angels hastened Lot, saying, Arise, omega and take thy Alpha mate, and thy two Alpha daughters, which are here; lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city.__ 17 __And while the new omega lingered, the angels laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his Alpha mate, and upon the hand of his two Alpha daughters; the __Lord__ being merciful: and they brought him forth, and set him without the city._

"Stop there, Castiel."

97 had been half-through this reading when Crowley's free hand had moved over to rest atop his wild, dark head. The heavy weight of it had set him stuttering and the shake in his voice had continued through to the end.

Crowley snapped his "Revelations" shut and 97 tried to turn away from the noise, the suddenness of the movement, but the strong fingers gripped his hair, holding his head in place.

"You know, Castiel... omega Lot lay with his daughters once his mate was turned into salt. That is where your line starts. Conceived in corruption, born into the same."

"Y-yes, Alpha." Fresh tears filled 97's eyes at the sting in his scalp, caused as much by his tremoring as the Deacon's hold on his dark bangs.

"But you know there are other texts, ones outside these scriptures that also contain the Truth. This is why we have our '_Revelations'_…" Crowley's voice was slipping into the timbre it had when he was in the pulpit. "Blessed seers old and new who Spirit has visited."

"There is one of these outside texts that says omega Lot's first pup was not from the seed of his daughters, but that he spread his leaking omega ass for the very same Angels that took his Alphahood."

"That would mean certain omegas have the blood of Angels in their veins."

Crowley's voice had risen in volume and within his womb, 97 felt his pup begin to flail in agitation at the sound.

"Do you think that makes these omega's special, Castiel?"

For every decibel Crowley's voice had risen, 97's now dropped. "N-no, Alpha."

"Do you think you're special, Castiel?"

This turn in conversation had 97 so confused he couldn't think straight. He knew no omega was "special" but he also understood the Alpha was looking for a certain answer. Hesitating in his uncertainty, a whine burred up in his throat as the hand in his hair twisted tighter.

"Please, Alpha…"

"You didn't answer me, Castiel! Do you think you're special?!"

Hot drops of spittle flecked 97's cheek from the ferocity of the Deacon's roar and hands had gone automatically over his belly, covering the pup. His chin had drawn itself up, stretching his throat taut automatically.

"No, Alpha, N-no, Alpha…"

97 repeated the words like a mantra. "I am merely a v-vessel, yours to use, yours to f-fill…"

"Liar!" Crowley stood as he shouted, pulling 97 up high onto his knees in the process. But the Deacon didn't stop there. He stepped out from behind his desk, half-dragging, half-pulling the terrified omega along with him.

Scrambling on his knees to keep up, a pitiful moan escaped 97's throat when he realized in the midst of his pain and terror that Crowley was moving them both towards the breeding barrel.

"Please, Alpha!" His voice became frantic. Crowley had ripped one pup from his womb previously with his attentions while he was bearing. "Please… Please…"

"You beg so prettily, Castiel… Too bad I can't trust a single word that comes out of that filthy, omega mouth of yours."

As much as he wanted to flail, to fight, to run, 97 felt the omega in him take over at the overpowering scent of Crowley's raw fury. His muscles seized and then went limp, his head fell back, throat loose and vulnerable above his collar.

Despite his body's acquiescence to the Deacon's pure Alpha energy, he continued to beg, weakly sobbing apologies and stuttered protestations, even as Crowley roughly maneuvered him over the barrel; harshly strapping wrists first, then snapping locks onto his collar so that he couldn't even raise his head.

97 heard Crowley's first order to shut up, but he was so locked into his terror, his mouth continued to babble out words, some real, some that sounded completely nonsensical, though to the omega they seemed to have meaning. He closed his mouth abruptly when a harsh slap crashed against his bare ass cheek, hard enough to jar him against all his bindings.

_The pup!_

He felt the tiny life in him throb at the blow. He wanted to curl in on himself, to wrap his body protectively around the baby in his belly, but the barrel's restraints held him fast. He was at Crowley's complete mercy now.

As if to underscore this, fierce fingers once again wound in to his thick bangs, wrenching his head up as far as it could go. He bit back a whimper as his collar bit into the skin of his neck.

"Tell me again that you don't think you're special, Castiel!"

Blue eyes, filled with tears, had to blink several times to be clear enough to be able to discern what it was that the Deacon held before him with his other hand.

The bottom dropped out of his belly as 97 recognized the worn scrap of paper.

Cleaning up the seeding suite after he'd been freed from the barrel a few breedings back, he had torn it from a magazine he found, left behind in the trashcan by his Alpha seeder. It was a tiny article on Montana, a description of mountains, of pine trees and open skies. Two hundred and fifty three words in length in its entirety: 97 had counted them numerous times.

At the bottom of the scrap was a picture of a small cabin. The words and the picture had become a place where he could retreat to when his spirit became too heavy for him to carry and the isolation of his vessel's cell threatened to undo him. He went there often, imagining how it would feel to live in such a place, free from Alpha rule, all his lost pups gathered there with him.

Though he'd memorized it easily and knew he should destroy it, 97 had kept it hidden in his cell. It was his only possession.

As benign as this might seem to most, 97's heart pounded in his ears, a new wave of fear washed over him when he realized that this was that had set the Deacon off.

It was a grave transgression.

No Brethren omega was allowed to read anything other than the Flock's "Revelations." After all, the quest for knowledge was omega Eve's first sin and what had caused the downfall of all mankind.

"Did you have this when you lost your last pup, Castiel?"

Even the barrel's binding could not hold back the neurogenic tremors that trembled 97's limbs. He knew what the Deacon was getting at before the man said anything more. Crowley was going to blame him losing that pup because of his sin, not because he'd been treated too roughly when his condition was fragile.

Bound as he was, 97 could not look away and every time he tried to close his eyes against the bit of paper that condemned him, the hand in his hair twisted anew. 97 watched through tear-blurred eyes as Crowley released the scrap and it fluttered to the floor like a broken bird.

The empty hand then dealt a slap to the omega's cheek that had him seeing stars.

"Answer me, Castiel!"

A matching slap was delivered to the other side of 97's face and it tore a deep sobbing gasp from the tortured omega.

"P-please, Alpha! Please… Forgive me!...F-forgive me! The p-pup…."

"The pup in your gut is tainted, just like the last one, you sinful omega curr!" Crowley's voice thundered, "No wonder Spirit moved me to fuck that soiled seed out of you! I should do the same now!"

"No!" 97's hoarse cry matched the enraged Alpha's.

Crowley's treatment had been so much more brutal than any of the breedings or other mountings 97 had endured. The Deacon's personal attendants had taken care of their leader's rampage after, keeping the truth of the incident from the other Shepherds, but only after leaving him dying for days from the pain and then forced to further endure, in silence, the shame of a lost seeding.

And the pup… 97 had seen it when they pulled it from him. The little girl had looked perfect; he'd seen no stain of his sin anywhere on her tiny, blue body.

"What did you just say to me, omega?!"

A third strike, this one just as powerful as the force of Crowley's words caught 97's mouth. The omega let out a pained howl as his tongue tasted blood. He knew that he needed to still, to silence himself; because at this point, anything he did was only going to add fuel to the fire of the Deacon's wrath.

Blue eyes snapped shut the moment the Deacon at least released his burning scalp. A whimper burred low in his throat at the all too familiar sounds of a belt-buckle disengaging, the slip of leather, and the sound of a zipper being undone.

Knowing what was coming, despite the pain in his jaw and how much he had to strain in his bindings, 97 surged forward, mouth open, seemingly eager to suck Crowley's rage-hardened member into his throat: anything to forestall the coming anguish, anything to possibly soothe the Alpha into a more merciful state of mind.

97 focused on opening his throat to accommodate Crowley's cock even as he struggled not to choke, suddenly filled with blood, and spit, and flesh. Given the size of the Alpha's member, the omega could tell Crowley's fury had pushed him all but into a rut stage. New fear gripped him now, having heard more than once about deaths caused by a rutting Alpha knotting in an omega's throat.

As soon as he was taken in, Crowley fucked Castiel's mouth in a rabid frenzy, hands tight in the omega's hair, pressing his cock so deep, all the way to its root, that more than once he felt Castiel soft lips crushed against his pubic bone.

Feeling himself quickly coming undone, it took every ounce of his will for Crowley to withdraw. He pulled out just in time, leaving Castiel heaving, lungs rasping as the omega sucked huge gulps of air into his burning lungs. No sooner had he withdrawn, than Crowley's cock erupted, geyser-like. Seed almost clear and thin as water jetted from him, it hit Castiel's slap-reddened cheeks, doused his dark head, and soon dripped from long eyelashes.

Standing in front of the omega, Deacon Alpha Crowley pumped his knotting shaft. As it blossomed, with each swelling throb, new cum shot out further drenching Castiel.

When this finally slowed to a trickle, staggering back until his half-bared ass rested against his desk, Crowley was panting hard himself.

A low growl of anger escaped him when, on the desktop behind him, his cell phone vibrated.

"A fucking holy man's work is never done," he grumbled reaching for the phone. Seeing the number a snarl twisted his lips. Even so, he answered it.

"What are you calling me for Tanner? This had better be important!"

"What? How the hell did that happen? How is it even possible that the vials got mixed like that?"

"Which omega was it?"

As Crowley listened, eyes still slightly rut-crazed glanced up and fixed on the defeated dark head of the barreled omega before him. A new fire ignited in the Deacon's gaze as he listened to Tanner babble on about mislabeled vials and possible bondings.

"Tanner, stop whining like an omega. Now hush up, and listen to me!" The hand not on his phone reached down to stroke his still rod-stiff cock. Crowley hissed at its sensitivity. Pushing himself up from his desk he walked over to Castiel. Using the hand on his dick he tapped his knot against the purpling bruise on the bound omega's cheek. A coarse grin twisted his mouth as he watched the quietly sobbing youth open his jaw wide in anticipation.

"There's no problem. Hamilton is headed out here already for a seeding, right? Well, we can deal with this little mishap here one way or the other. Just get him to the compound. I'll take care of the rest."

Without offering anything more Crowley clicked off his phone and tossed it lightly aside onto the thick carpet.

Lifting Castiel's head up once more, he rubbed the deep-red tip of his knotted cock against the omega's swollen lips. The sensation caused more cum to weep out and Crowley spread this around Castiel's still-open mouth.

"You're causing all kinds of trouble around here today, Castiel. As leader of the Flock, what do you think I should do about this?"

Crowley smirked at the new fear these words sparked in the haunted blue eyes that met his. Slowly he pulled back and walked around the quivering omega. The Deacon marveled as always, reaching the back of the barrel, at how divine the contraption was, Castiel held ass up and spread wide, his rouged hole glistening.

Inhaling deeply Crowley could immediately tell that this was fear slick, not heat. Not that it mattered to him in the least: he found the scent of both equally enticing and, the fact that Spirit had designed his omega vessels this way, just highlighted for him both the Maker's infinite design and his creation's intended use.

Stepping up closer, Crowley nudged his swollen cock against Castiel's hole, making the omega's breath hitch in anticipation of the coming pain. He watched the nervous bud twitch, the spasms as it worked frantically to loosen itself for the coming violation.

Not that even this would spare Castiel.

There were few things the Deacon liked better than splitting a vessel open with his Alpha cock so engorged it looked inhuman. The mere thought of forcing this into Castiel, along with another stroke, had Crowley spurting again. He licked his lips at the look of his seeds' glisten, added to the omega's surrendering sheen.

Crowley nudged up against Castiel's hole harder this time. His low growl turned into a chuckle at the hoarse cry this wrenched as he began to breach Castiel with a cock designed at this point to be held in, not entering.

"You know, I've never been one to 'spare the rod' when it comes to keeping the flock pure, Castiel."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, hope to hear from you. I know Supernatural is a huge fandom, but it gets a little lonely out here writing into the void.**

**AN1:Despite this chapter, I am truly not much of one for torture, so one more chapter and then I'll get the boys together and let the painful, awkward, healing begin!**

**AN 2: The breeding barrel is something that exists. I read about it in an article on pit fighting dogs. It's something they do to the fighting females, tying her down over a barrel, head locked in place, so that she can't turn and attack the equally aggressive male they're breeding her with. It is as inhumane in this instance as it is in this story.**

**AN3: Yes, that is actual Genesis verse I used (Chapters 3 and 19, King James Version). Of course I have tweaked it significantly for this AU. The Sodom story in particular, although Lot did offer to throw his two daughters out to be raped to death to a crowd of men who wanted to fuck the angels visiting him. I always thought it a shame God never did anything to the bastard for this. And yes, I know I am likely going to hell for altering scripture, but I was headed that direction a long time before this story.**


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